Siblings
by Insanely-Yours96
Summary: After Lily's mother's death, her father remarries to none other than Mrs. Potter, James' mother. Read through the twists, turns and heartbreaking moments.
1. Chapter 1

"Lily, wake up."

I cracked my eyes open and groaned, rubbing away the sleep as I spied my sister standing just inside my room; hand on hip, she looked at her surroundings distastefully. I turned to face away from her, grumbling incoherently and shutting my eyes a little tighter.

"Lily, I said get up!"

I winced in response to her annoying voice, and growled slightly, trying to block out the noise and return to my dream. I sunbathed happily in my coconut bikini top, listening to the pleasant lull of the waves and smelling the ocean. Content, I smiled, eyes flashing with images of an unexplored Caribbean island, just beyond my reach.

"Lily!"

I jumped at the loud voice just in my ear, and groaned grumpily as I felt Petunia push me towards the edge of my bed impatiently.

"Get up! Dad's going to be back in less than half an hour, and he said we should _both _be ready by then!"

"Dad?" I grumbled in confusion, peering up at my sister as she scowled down at me.

"Yes! We're meeting that woman today," Disgust lingered in her voice, and I felt my slight headache pick up its tempo.

"Oh, no, forget it," I breathed, pulling the blanket over my head as she opened the curtains and light poured into the room. "I won't get up for _her_, it's way too early."

"Lily, it is already eleven," Petunia snapped, trying to tug the blanket from my death grip. "You act like I want to meet this… this freak girlfriend of his."

I winced at the word that was normally shot at me with such distain, and suddenly basked in this moment. Petunia hadn't talked to me like this since long before our mother died and I was accepted to Hogwarts; it was amazing to feel like she recognized me as her sister, if only for a moment.

Ever since I had received my acceptance letter, she had been terrible to me. She called me a freak on the off-chance she didn't ignore my presence completely, and had a good laugh about my weirdness with her snobby friends. As the years past and I left for my 'freak-school', our friendship dwindled, before disappearing completely.

Midway through my forth year at Hogwarts, I received news that mum had passed. Two summers ago she had been diagnosed with cancer, and we had slowly been losing her since. It was terrible, watching the life drain out of her slowly. The experience made Petunia hate me all the more, but whether it was because I wasn't there or because she just wanted to channel her anger somewhere, I was unsure.

This last year, though, she had been corresponding with me while I was at school, sending me short and annoyed updates on dad. He had found a girlfriend, and Petunia said she'd heard him say he was in love. She thought it was dreadful, and I agreed. Was he replacing mum? What was he going to do next – replace _us_?

Once I got home, he sat us down and told us they were getting married. Scratch that, they _were_ married. Obviously, they had gone to an office and signed some papers to get it over with, but they were still planning on having a small wedding with family friends. How romantic were they? Signing some papers and saying "Yay, we are married!" Merlin, they make me sick.

But this was what brought me and Petunia together again. Our mutual distain for dads new wife – our stepmother – though we had yet to meet her, it was pre-decided that we hated her. No one could replace our mother, and who was she to try? And, even worse for Petunia, she was a witch. Dad had met her when dropping me off at Platform 9 and 3/4, which meant (and this was the worst of it) we were going to get a new step-brother. Dad had yet to say any names, but just the knowledge was terrible. What if it was a Slytherin?

"Lily!" Petunia screeched, and I realized I had lingered too long in my thoughts for her impatience to handle.

I suddenly wanted to do anything but move. I wanted to freeze this moment forever. Petunia was here, and she was yelling, but she wasn't truly mad. Not at me, anyway. And my bed was wonderful – warm and safe and completely too lovely to leave. I sighed, savoring the scent of cinnamon lingering in my room and my sister's presence.

"Lily," she called again, this time closer to me than before. "Come on, twenty minutes."

With an exaggerated groan, I sat up and pushed the covers off me. Rubbing a bit of drool off my chin, I looked up at Petunia. As per usual, she was gorgeous. Sure, she was slightly boney (which seemed to be increasing with age) and had a rather horse-shaped head, but she always did her best to look good, and it worked.

Her hair was still slightly damp with a slight wave, but I was sure she'd soon fix that with her beloved flat iron. She was dressed in a skirt that I'm sure mum would write off as too-short, and wore strappy sandals with a lace tanktop and far too many bracelets.

As I examined her form I spied a heart-shaped necklace with her name engraved on it, embedded with purple jewels. My heart fell to the pit of my stomach as I realized it was her last present from mum; both of our last presents, as I had the same one, except with my name and emerald jewels. I instinctively reached for my neck to stroke the precious item, smiling slightly as my finger made contact and turning away to fix my sheets.

I heard Petunia exit just before I turned again to head to the bathroom. I took my sweet time in the shower, despite knowing it would irk my dad when I was unready upon his arrival home. I soaked in the warm water happily, scrubbing away at my annoyingly red hair with a pink formula that smelled of strawberries. It was really a potion that helped keep my frizzy hair managed and made it grow a quarter of an inch per use, though Petunia didn't know it was magical, and thus used it occasionally. Or maybe more than occasionally, as it was almost completely gone and I had gotten a new bottle from Diagon Alley last month.

I put on my fluffy green robe after shaving my legs and magically drying my hair in a matter of seconds. Stepping up to the mirror, I was surprised at the lack of fog, until I realized Petunia had kept the fan on from her shower.

I grimaced at a rather nasty looking blemish that had appeared over night on my forehead. Reaching under the counter I pulled out the instant acne removal cream Mary Macdonald, my best friend, has given me on my last birthday. Slopping on the yellow goop, I re-read the packaging and saw I had to wait five minutes. I nodded and then grabbed my toothbrush, brushing away for three minutes before rinsing with mouthwash. With another wave of my wand I was sporting light eye makeup and cherry lip gloss, and with a final wave, the goop was gone and my skin was, once again, smooth.

Being a witch really does have its advantages. I really did need to thank Alice for teaching me all those quick-fix charms.

I examined myself in the mirror. My black eyeliner and mascara made my green eyes pop out extraordinarily, and I smiled lightly at this. My eyes were my favorite feature, as they were among the few things I had inherited from my mum. My bright red hair had a light wave that Petunia used to be jealous of, as hers did an awkward frizz-thing and mine normally turned out looking elegant. Eventually, she told me that it was just a freak-thing.

Upon entering my bedroom, I noticed an outfit already set out on my bed. A note card was placed on top of it, with Petunias loopy writing:

_Dad said to at least look "presentable", and since you can't do it on your own, I took the liberty. Do _not_ put on those retched leggings under the skirt, it is longer than the ones I wear and you don't need to look like a nun. I'm running to the bakery for a cake, Dad wanted to bring something for brunch. _

_-Petunia_

I couldn't help but smile at the note. Not once was the word 'freak' printed.

Five minutes later, however, I was looking into the mirror reproachfully. The blue jean mini-skirt was just that; mini. The red long-sleeve shirt showed too much cleavage (and as I never show any, any was way too much). The black pin-striped vest cinched in my waist and made me look like I had more of a figure than I did. I wore the strappy sandals reluctantly, as they had a slight heel and would no doubt trip me up eventually.

"Oh, Lils, you look stunning!"

I turned to my door and gave my dad a sheepish grin. Of course he'd think I look good, he had no sense of fashion. Sure, the outfit looked good, and showed off my legs nicely, but I didn't feel comfortable with showing off this much skin and dad didn't seem to mind it. I could just imagine mums expression – "Lily," she would say "You put on some pants this minute; I won't have you converting into your silly sister!"

"Thanks, dad," I mumbled, fingering my necklace out of habit.

"Well, your sister just got back. We need to leave now, or we'll be late."

I nodded as I looked at him. He was dressed in his work clothes, a formal attire, and had his dark hair neatly combed in a way that made him appear rather handsome. His lips were quirked slightly into a smile as he turned on his heel and exited my room. Just before he left, I saw a glimmer of something in his blue eyes I hadn't seen since mum died.

He was happy.

* * *

><p>I looked around at the fancy diner, amazed at how perfect it seemed. We were in the muggle world, still, because dad knew how Petunia would react if taken to a magical household.<p>

Everywhere, there were waiters that looked more like butlers, serving guests. The diner had light, romantic music, and we were being led to a private area in the back.

A table was set with five seats, wine laid out and candlelight illuminating the room. The maroon tablecloth matched the plush carpet, and the walls were decorated in tasteful swirled designs. The room smelled delicious, and steaming dinner rolls were waiting in the middle of the five-person table. But first, introductions were in order. I stared in awe at the woman my dad was introducing to Petunia and I, utterly amazed.

"Lily, Petunia, this is Dorea Evans (née Black)."

My stomach did flips as I took in the woman before me. She was, undoubtedly, beautiful. Her dark hair was curled to perfection and pinned to the top of her head in an elegant bun, a few strands let free to frame her heart-shaped face. Her smile was genuine and happy, her makeup light and used to accentuate her good features rather than add beauty. She was in a floor-length blue dressing gown that looked to be made of silk, and it looked like she belonged in a fairytale. It was no wonder what dad saw in her – even _I _was jealous of her amazing looks.

"So nice to meet you, girls." Her smile was splendid and gorgeous. She sounded so genuinely happy it was hard not to like her. "Your dad has told me so much about you!"

Petunia gripped my arm tightly, and I turned to see her glaring ferociously at our new step mother. With a curt nod, she forced a smile and said, voice dripping with false cheer and sarcasm, "So nice to meet you."

I shook my head to clear it – we were supposed to get her _out_ of dad's life, not warm up to her! Just because she made dad happy again didn't mean she could replace our mum, or something!

"Nice to meet you, Mrs..." I trailed off, eyes falling to the ground as I realized I could never recognize her as a 'Mrs.', for that would be giving her mums title as 'Mrs. Evans'.

"Nice to meet you, Dorea," I corrected, sounded more genuine than Petunia, though trying not to seem happy about the situation. Because I wasn't. This woman wasn't going to be good enough to be in our lives. She couldn't be. She wasn't mum.

"My son should be along any moment," she said, and just as she spoke a teenager walked into the room dressed in formal wizarding robes.

I froze as soon as I saw him, because I recognized that messy head of black hair and those hazel eyes, sparkling with mischief.

He was staring at the ground solemnly as he entered, scowling before stopping beside his mother and slowly looking up, as if it were painful. His eyes lingered on my dad for a long moment, before taking in Petunia, and, beside her, me. As our eyes clashed, he froze and did a double take, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights. I imagined I looked vaguely the same.

"James, you're being rude," Dorea scolded good-naturedly, looking slightly confused and put-out by her son's behavior.

My stomach clenched and I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick. Dad was happy with a woman besides mum, which was a 180 from the constant misery he had endured for the past three years of loneliness. But, of all the stupid things he had ever done, this was the worst. How on earth could he be standing there, looking like the happiest man on earth, smiling at his new wife, when he had just married James-bloody-Potter's mother?

"Lily?" Potter asked, as if it were unbelievable, eyes sparkling with some unnamed emotion. I just stared for a moment more, before turning my eyes to the ground in determination.

"Potter." I acknowledged, before feeling Petunia's grip tighten around my wrist. I glanced at her to see her eyes filled with annoyance and anger and months of resentment.

"Why are you wearing a dress?" She asked rudely, sneering at Potter's attire. I nearly smiled – I had wondered the same thing upon reaching Hogwarts for the first time and seeing everyone looking as if they were cross dressers.

"Excuse me?" Potter said, seemingly taken aback. His mum let out a pleasant chuckle and shook her head at my sister's naivety of the wizarding world.

"What are you laughing at?" Petunia snapped at her, and I elbowed her as dad turned to us, looking a bit irritated.

"Manners, Petunia," He scolded, frowning.

"I just wanted to know," She said irritably, crossing her arms.

"They are wizarding robes," I told her, watching as her face turned disgusted.

"You freaks cross dress, too?" But this time she was talking about me, too, and I felt my face go red in embarrassment and anger.

"Figures," She sneered, looking at Dorea, Potter and me in a way that showed she obviously thought herself above all of us. I scowled angrily.

"Not now, Petunia," I hissed, hand twitching towards my wand, though I knew I'd never use it on her.

"What do you mean, freaks?" Potter asked, and I turned to see a rather outraged expression on his face, full of resentment for Petunia and slight anger.

"I _mean_," She said, sounding like she was talking to an idiotic toddler that couldn't understand words. "That you people are disgusting, weird, freakish things who can ma—"

"Petunia!" My father thundered, and my heart sank as I realized how mad he was. "Apologize, _now_!"

"No, I will not apologize," Petunia said snottily, tapping her foot, as if impatient to leave. Which she was, of course.

"You will apologize, and then you will sit down and enjoy a nice dinner with your new family." He said it in a deceptively calm, dangerous voice.

"So you _are_ trying to replace mum," she accused, tears in her eyes, hands shaking. I put a hand on her shoulder to calm her, because we already came to this realization months ago, and I had accepted it. He was going through grief, still, and he would try to replace her. But we wouldn't let him.

"Petunia! I am _not_ trying to replace your mother," he said, now sounded slightly desperate. I gazed at him to see a look of hurt etched onto his face.

"Oh, yes you are!" She snapped, her entire frame shaking furiously.

"Petunia, not now," I repeated lightly, rubbing her back slightly, all too aware of the inquiring gaze been shot to me by Potter and his mother. She turned on me, eyes blazing.

"So _you_ don't care about mum now, too?" I could see the tears, though, threatening to fall, and I knew she didn't truly believe this. That she was just saying things, that she was still grieving. "I knew you'd take _her_ side; breeds have to stick together, right?"

"No – Petunia, calm dow-"

"I can't believe you, you freak." She shook her head at me, looking betrayed.

And then she ran.

I felt a familiar prickling sensation in my eyes. I ignored it, Potter and his mother, "I'll go."

I felt a tug on my wrist, and turned to see Potters' eyes blazing as he looked at me, a frown firmly in place. I rounded on him, beyond annoyed.

"What?" I snarled.

He looked lost for a long moment, and eventually let go. "I'll go too,"

I shook my head at him, but as I ran after her, I felt him follow.

I looked both ways, and then turned towards the direction of our house. Petunia would either be there, or at Vernon's, and I wasn't sure how to get to his house, as he normally visited ours.

I pushed my way through the crowds, running top-speed towards my house. It was a good four and a half miles away, but it didn't matter so much, because I wasn't running for myself. I was running to make sure my sister was okay, and that everything we'd built up over the past two months wasn't gone.

I was suddenly glad I had been going to the gym, because a few months ago I'd already be breaking a sweat. Even as I got to the third mile and began to feel warmer in the long-sleeved shirt, I pressed on. By the fourth mile, my breaths were ragged and I could hear Potter catching up behind me. It vaguely occurred to me that I was wearing a skirt, but I bypassed the thought. I needed to get to Petunia; she needed me.

I sprinted past the park we always used to play at when we were kids, and it occurred to me that I hadn't seen her figure in front of me the entire run, even when the road was long and straight. My heart clenched, but I ignored it – she had gotten a head start because of Potter, right? She was going to be at home, right?

My breath was coming out in gasps by the time I burst through the front door of my house. Leaving it open uselessly, I glanced in every room as I passed.

"Tuney?" I called, using the nickname from a time long past. I looked in her room, the bathroom, my room, dad's room, and lurched to a stop at my parent's old bedroom. We hadn't entered it since mum died, except for dad to move his stuff to the guest room.

I heard cautious steps on the stairs behind me as I slowly opened the door. It creaked, just as I remembered. I walked in slowly, winded and tired and hopeful. But Petunia wasn't there.

Instead, dozens of pictures in frames lay on the bed, all of mum and our small family. This was where dad had put them all. Where he had hidden them all away.

It looked like mum hadn't even left. Everything was in-between a neat and messy disorder, just like her. On the night table there was a mug she used to always drink from that I made her for Christmas. It looked rather out-of-place among all the sticky notes she always used as reminders. Her closet was slightly ajar, showing all of her formal clothes and tacky sweaters.

My heart slowly broke at the sight.

"I have the right to wear these terrible sweaters," she once told me. "Every parent needs some way to embarrass their kids!"

I fell to my knees in front of the bed, staring at a picture. Mum was smiling at the camera, looking gorgeous in an emerald dress and red Christmas hat. I stared and memorized the picture.

If I looked close enough she looked slightly annoyed, and I remembered that I had been arguing with Petunia over who would take the picture. We had clicked the camera at the same time, and her expression was happy, if not surprised. Her lips were red and glossy, her eyes emerald, almond-shaped and so like mine.

The image blurred, and it took me a long moment to realize that I was crying. "Lily?"

I turned to see Potter hesitating at the doorway, looking unsure of what to do. The moment he saw my face, he took an involuntary step back, looking at me in shocked surprise.

"Merlin," he mumbled, and I quickly turned away, swiping at my eyes. As I removed the tears, new ones quickly took their place. Angrily, I tried to get rid of them, only to have a sob break through. I froze; there was no way I was going to cry in front of James Potter. Not even if hell froze over.

I heard him approach cautiously, and turned to him furiously, sending him to strongest glare I could muster. "What do you want, Potter?"

Even to me, my voice sounded painfully weak and pitiful. Oh, gods, this can't be happening.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, n—

I froze as he embraced me, brushing my hair out of my face and pushing my face to his chest, and treating me like I was the most precious thing in the world. My lip started trembling as he continued stroking my hair, muttering things I couldn't even understand.

"I know," he said, and I shook angrily. How could he know? How could he even begin to imagine what I was going through?

_His dad_, a little voice told me.

And I knew it was true. Potter's dad had been killed in action sometime during second year. I remembered it well. He didn't speak to anyone for weeks, he got into a huge row with the other Marauders and he always had big bags under his eyes that year.

He did know; he was, perhaps, the only person besides Petunia that knew what I was going through.

So, I cried in the arms of James Potter, a schoolmate I had hated for the last six years, and, now, my new step-brother.

"I'm sorry," I whispered after what felt like a decade, just as the sobs stopped.

"For what?" He murmured, still stroking my hair soothingly, his voice sounding a tad broken and lost.

"For being so weak," I replied solemnly. He suddenly backed off, and I winced. Of course he wouldn't want to be around someone so weak – hell, I didn't want to be around me. Not to mention this was Potter, a boy I had verbally abused for the past four or so years, and someone who I was never on good terms with.

"Lily," he said seriously, looking me straight in the eyes. His hazel orbs were sparking with an emotion I didn't recognize, and I swallowed involuntarily. "You are not weak."

And before I could blink, or even think, he kissed my forehead and pulled me back into a hug.

* * *

><p><strong>This is the longest chapter I have ever written. I am extremely proud of myself. Unlike my other stories, this will not be a oneshot. And, seeing as I haven't written a chaptered story since my old accounts, excuse me if I take a little long to update. I am going to try to rival this chapters length in all the other ones, so tell me if any of you think this is too long and I may decide against that. <strong>

**I'd love feedback, as I came up with this idea last night as I was drifting to sleep and am still slightly unsure.**

**Keep in mind this is unedited, and I've vaguely read through it, so feel free to point out mistakes. Thanks for reading, and I promise this is likely to be one of the longest author notes there will be. **


	2. Chapter 2

I knew something was wrong the second I woke up. Sunlight was streaming through the window, hitting me directly in the eyes. I hastily turned, pulling the blanket over my head with a groan. Of course, this just made the situation worse, as I realized the blanket was unbearably warm, I was sweating, and my bladder was about to explode.

"Damn," I mumbled, pulling the blanket from over my head so I could breathe easier and squinting in the light. Why was their light? Hadn't I gotten blackout curtains the previous year just to prevent situations like this?

I suddenly got the feeling that today would be a horrible day to be alive, and, upon rubbing my eyes and looking around, I knew I was right.

Guilt hit me in a nauseating wave as I looked at my unfamiliar surroundings. I was smack dab in the middle of a tastefully decorated room, on a king sized mattress with at least twenty pillows and too-thick blankets.

Stomach churning, I realized that I was in the Potter manor, where James-Bloody-Potter had taken me after I had bawled my eyes out into his (ridiculously toned) chest.

I had lost control after chasing Petunia down and ending up in mum's old room... and Potter had been there. Hell, been there, he had bloody well participated in it! Swallowing the growing lump in my throat, I dropped my head to my hands and breathed deeply.

Why the hell didn't he just leave me alone? Why, in Merlin's name, hadn't he just minded his own business for once in his unimportant lifetime? And, damn it all, why hadn't I protested when he led me back to his mum and my dad, and Dorea, distraught, immediately apparated me to the Potter residence, shoved me in a room and got a house elf to give me a potion that knocked my arse out?

"Damn," I groaned again, sitting up to look at the enormous room. I resisted the urge to climb back into the large bed as my bladder peaked, reminding me of why I had awoken in the first place.

Reaching to the bedside table, I picked up my wand before standing on unsteady legs, blindly navigating myself to the side of the room where a door led me into the most extravagant bathroom I had ever seen. I hastily relieved myself in the toilet, looking around all the while in slight shock.

I knew Potter was well off, but, _damn_, he was filthy rich! One of his bathrooms made my entire house look like a McDonalds, and even Hogwarts prefects bath didn't compare to the over-sized tub off to the side. Tub? Who was I kidding; it was a bloody swimming pool!

Awed, I stood, making my way over to the sink where a bit of parchment lay waiting.

_Lily, _

_Please make yourself comfortable. Feel free to shower, you'll find towels and a small collection of cleaning supplies in the cabinet by the door. I've laid out an outfit I'm sure you'll look most stunning in on the shelf below the supplies, and beside it is a toothbrush and mint paste. _

_If you need anything else, don't hesitate to call Tibby, our house elf. I am sure she will assist you in any way possible, and show you down to the dining room for breakfast. _

_I hope you are feeling better, and am very sorry if we got off to the wrong foot yesterday. You're father has contacting your sister, and she will be staying at her fiancés home for a week or so. To prepare for the wedding, she says, though I fear she doesn't like me much._

_I trust you'll find everything to your liking,_

_Dorea_

Setting down the parchment, I turned to the door, spotting the large cabinet with ease. I turned to the bath and began running the water before slowly walking over.

Guilt struck me again as I replayed the letter in my head. Dorea was the most gracious host I had ever met, and, despite my sister's attitude and my obvious distain in being at the restaurant, she was treating me far better than I deserved. The little voice that had quietly sang in my head that she was trying to replace my mum sank. She was polite and kind, and I was mean and rude and completely undeserving.

Opening the cabinet, I grimaced. There seemed to be an entire shops worth of choices for hair care items, most of them from _Madam Patil's Hair Salon_ _and Potion Treatments_. I quickly selected one I recognized from school, _Strawberry Savor_, which I had borrowed from Alice last fall, and picked up a random soap, as I had never used wizarding soap and had no idea what to expect.

By the time I had made my selection the bath was nearly full, so I hastily turned it off and stepped in. I smiled happily as I submerged my body in the steamy water and smelled the air, surprised to learn it smelled vaguely of flowers.

Well, that was new.

I sat in the bath for the longest time before reaching for the shampoo, relaxed in the water that never seemed to lose its warmth. I closed my eyes and rubbed my scalp, sighing in content as the familiar scent washed over me. I submerged myself in water once again, rubbing at my hair to get the suds out before returning up for air.

The moment I reached for the soap it sprung into action, diving under the water and scrubbing my body thoroughly. Surprised, I let out a giggle as it cleaned my feet and sides.

"I'm ticklish," I squealed uselessly, and suddenly, to my amazement, the soap turned itself in a way that somehow did not tickle me as it cleaned. I blinked in surprise as it washed my neck, face, and shoulders, before returning itself to the side of the tub, where it then preceded to pop into inexistence.

"Wow," I mumbled as I stood, a pink fluffy towel immediately wrapping around me and another white one rubbing my hair dry. Were magical households really so lazy that they could do none of this stuff themselves? I mean, sure, it is most convenient, but it was also extremely odd and made me feel slightly useless. "That's enough."

Upon hearing the order in my voice, the towels suddenly became limp and fell uselessly to the floor. Shaking my head, I stood and placed them and the clothes I had previously been wearing in a dirty clothing basket, watching as they popped away.

Grabbing my wand, I dried my still-slightly-damp hair and did a light makeup charm before heading back to the cabinet to grab the set of clothes and toothbrush.

Upon picking the clothing up, I paused and did a double take. There were a matching set of black undergarments with a sizing charm on them and a gorgeous emerald dress robe set.

Shaking my head at the unnecessarily expensive items, though secretly happy with the gesture, I brushed my teeth for three minutes, looking into the magical mirror all the while.

"You look stunning," A female voice commented from the mirror after I had slipped on the gorgeous green gown and was adjusting it nervously.

"I'm wearing it right?" I asked, slightly uncomfortable with how low it was cut.

"Yes, darling, and it fits like a glove!"

I nodded to the mirror, forcing a slight smile before exiting the room. Yes, it fit like a glove, but it was also uncomfortably tight and showed more skin than I would have liked. Of course, Dorea couldn't have known that I hated showing skin, as Petunia had picked out my outfit the day before and I had looked a bit slutty.

"Tibby?" I called, remembering the name of the house elf the letter had mentioned.

With a pop, a strange creature with large brown eyes and a lot of enthusiasm appeared. "Yes, Missus Lily Evans be needing something?"

"Um, yes, please. Dorea said that you could show me to some food?"

"Oh, yes, missus! Breakfast is just about to be served!"

I blinked, confused. How late did they serve breakfast? "What time is it, Tibby?"

"Nearly eight, Missus Evans, ma'am,"

"Oh," I said, surprised. If it was eight, then I must've woken up at seven, at the latest. Seven? Since when had I ever been up that early. "And you can call me Lily, Tibby."

The elf beamed up at me merrily.

"This way, Missus Lily!" she called, exiting the room and leading me into a large hallway. I slowly followed, staring at the pictures on the wall of Potter. There seemed to be at least two for every year since he had started Hogwarts, and he was smiling cheerfully in all but two, both from second year.

On the left wall, there were pictures of another man, one that was clearly Potter's father. He looked as cheerful as his son; he was undeniably older and had several worry lines and a few scars marring his face, but was smiling in every picture. Looking between the two, there was no doubt they could be anything but father and son, as they both had a familiar mischievous glimmer in their hazel eyes, captured beautifully in the moving photographs.

"Just down these stairs," Tibby announced from quite a ways in front of me. I hastily caught up, taking the stairs two at a time to be directly behind her. We took a deliberate right, and within moments were entering a colossal room.

A chandelier hung over head, lighting the room with a yellowy glow. The dining table was huge, taking up the majority of the room, with the chairs surrounding it taking up the rest. In the middle of the table lay a large range of breakfast selections, from pancakes, French toast and waffles to cereals, poptarts and a large selection of juices.

"You can sit there, Lily," I looked up from the food to see Dorea gesturing to a seat opposite of hers, a smile plastered on her face that was too genuine to be fake. I blinked at her before taking my seat, turning to thank Tibby to see that she had already disappeared.

"That dress looks stunning," she commented with a grin, putting some fruit on top of her waffles before adding whip cream. My lips upturned and I felt my face warm.

"Thank you," I mumbled, reaching out to place some waffles on my own plate before drowning them in syrup and serving myself some pumpkin juice.

"The others should be around soon," she informed, cutting her waffles with a fork. "Your dad just ran off to work and James should be down soon. His friend, Sirius, is staying with us, so he'll be around, too."

I nodded, frowning at the thought of both Potter and Sirius, world renounced pervert and man-whore, seeing me in this attire. Not to mention the added drama of my cry-fest from last night; no doubt he told Sirius all about it.

I bit into my waffle just as Dorea continued trying to make small talk, "So, you know James and Sirius from school, I gather? Are you all friends?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to say friends," a voice commented from the door, and we both turned to spot Sirius, grinning from ear to ear, dragging Potter behind him by the wrist.

"You wouldn't? I thought we got along so well," I said, words drenched with sarcasm as I watched, slightly amused, as he and Potter did a double take, looking me up and down in approval. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to Dorea.

"We may loathe each other's presences'," I said seriously, though she didn't seem to think so, as she let out a giggle.

"I'm sure your exaggerating, Lily," she said pleasantly, as Sirius plopped down into the seat beside me and Potter sat across from him.

"You're looking quite lovely today, Evans," Sirius commented, still eyeing my dress with a funny expression.

"Thanks, Black, you look rather spiffy yourself," I said, and it was true. Instead of his normal school robes he was sporting a muggle dress shirt and a pair of slacks, a tie hanging undone around his shoulders.

Pulling a face, he snorted. "Have to meet with my uncle this afternoon,"

"I thought you liked your uncle?"

"Yeah, but, all due respect, Mrs. Potter, he's a bloody ponce when it comes to clothes," Potter snorted, and I turned to see his eyes shining, obviously remembering something that had happened in the past.

"Sirius, language," Dorea scolded good-naturedly, and then, with a smile, added, "And it is Mrs. Evans, now."

I shifted uncomfortably as two gazes landed on me, choosing to ignore them in favor of my waffles.

"By the way, Lily, your sister called," Dorea informed, a frown playing on her lips. "She wants you to meet her for lunch today, at some diner called… Carbucks?"

"Starbucks. It's a muggle coffee shop," I explained to the confused looks, cutting another piece off my waffle.

We slowly fell into a comfortable silence, all eating our food. I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with the realization that I was being civilized anywhere near Potter and Black – and they had yet to make a crude joke.

"Would you like me to take you?" Potter spoke up for the first time, cutting off the comfortable atmosphere rather successfully.

I looked up to him, surprised, and saw that Sirius was mirroring my expression, except he had dropped his jaw slightly, looking as caught off guard as I felt.

"Er… It's fine, I can just apparate." I said awkwardly, shifting in my seat as he gazed at me intently.

"Are you sure? I'll be bored without Sirius, anyway. It's no problem," I glanced up and saw Dorea looking at me expectantly.

I sighed, defeated. "Whatever, Potter. I'm leaving at eleven and stopping by Diagon Alley first to pick up a few things."

"Excellent," He responded, and I looked to Sirius to see him scowling harshly at his mate, arms crossed and annoyance written clearly across his face.

"Using me as an excuse," Sirius grumbled under his breath, though everyone heard him clearly.

"What was that mate?" Potter asked, tone demanding.

"Nothing, Prongs, nothing at all," Sirius responded before standing abruptly. "I'm going."

"Okay, Sirius, have fun and be careful!"

"Will do, Mrs..." Sirius trailed off, shaking his head before replying "Will do, Dorea," and leaving the kitchen in silence.

* * *

><p>A letter arrived for me five minutes before I was scheduled to apparate to Diagon Alley in form of Marlene McKinnon's barn owl. I grinned, as I hadn't heard from her since school ended, and hadn't exactly had time to write between the havoc that was my dad's love life and getting Petunia to like me (which prohibited me from doing anything even remotely freak like – including writing on parchment with a quill and shipping it off to a friend via owl).<p>

And, oh, where to begin on Marlene McKinnon?

Marly is my closest friend between Alice and Mary, and the first I made at Hogwarts. She is incredibly likeable, and the most fun-loving, wild, insane girl I have ever known. She is what most of Hogwarts population would call "a total babe", though some shorten that sentiment to simply "sexy".

By the time we turned fourteen she already had major curves in the form of huge boobs, wide hips and a skinny waist. Of course, she told me I had all the right curves, too, I just never flaunted them like she did. With the exception of today, of course, when Dorea had chosen my clothes.

Anyways, if there is one thing Marly loves to do, it is flaunt what is hers. Seeing as her dads rich and powerful, and her mom is a huge time fashion designer for witches and wizards, she is positively rolling in wealth and has the most stylish clothing on the planet. Of course, we basically share our wardrobes since I have a massive shoe collection due to mum's crazy obsession with them (Marly always says she only wears them so they can have a vacation from my closet, since I only ever wear one pair).

She doesn't just stop the flaunting at trivial items, either. Oh, no, she flaunts _everything _– including people. I swear she has dated nearly the entire male population of Hogwarts, with the exception of the Marauders. Even she has standards.

With a grin, I pulled open the letter, actually excited with whatever news it would bring, completely unlike the boring hermit I've been for the past few weeks. Seriously, going to the diner yesterday and the gym nearly every day is the only time I ever got out of the house, and honestly I am the tiniest bit relieved to be in the Potter manor instead of suffocating in solitude at home.

Sure, Petunia was there, but that did not mean she wanted to spend every waking moment with me. I mostly just slept, went to the gym, had dinner with Petunia and repeated.

_LILS! _

_Merlin, Lily, where in the hell have you curled up and died this summer? Seriously, you haven't written me once. This is completely unacceptable, Evans, and I think we are going to have an intervention once school is back in session. _

_And me? Well, I happen to have a good reason. Beside the absolutely amazing language of l-o-v-e here in France, there are men. Tons and tons of men, always asking me out, day after day; not that I'm not used to it, darling, but really, there are no boys here. Oh no, hun, these guys know how to really knock you off your feet and leave you breathless – they aren't brain-dead _boys_ who don't know how to handle themselves. _

_There is a bloke just down the road of the cottage we are staying in, and Merlin, he is sex on a stick. You should see the way he looks at me, eyes nearly black in the fire-light (had a party by the camping grounds) and smoldering into my soul. God, he is every girls dream, and he has dance moves to die for. _

_In between snogging each other senseless he whispered French words into my ear, and _MERLIN_ it was the sexiest thing I have ever heard._

_But enough of that; I'm not here to give you a porno, Lils. So what about you? Having a little summer fling with some hot guy while your dad is preoccupied with the lady? I wish you were here, Lily, because I could set you up with some dead sexy foreign men and you would die happy._

_Anyways, snogging, slagginess and romance aside (for now!), it is amazing here. Mum and I have been visiting beautiful muggle attractions, though dad was called back to work last minute, so he hasn't joined us at all. Not that I'm complaining, of course. This French-bachelor of mine is a half-blood, so dad would never approve. Mum doesn't even know. She is so oblivious, Lil. Your mum, on the other hand, would be able to tell. I swear if the woman wasn't a muggle she'd have to be a seer!_

_I have to go now, but if I don't see a reply within the week, I'll have to leave this blessed country and threaten Petunia until she tells me where she stashed your body. _

_Love,_

_Marly_

I jumped in surprise at a knock on the door, "Come in,"

I watched as the door opened slowly and admitted Potter, who looked vaguely uncomfortable about entering, even though it was technically his house. I watched his eyes trail down to Marly's letter curiously, before looking up to meet mine. "You said eleven?"

I flicked my wand and thought a spell, seeing that it was already eleven o' five. I nodded sharply, stood and walked towards him, making sure to leave a large distance. "Can you apparate inside the house?"

"I can, but you won't be able to." Seeing my annoyed expression, he rushed on, "Because of the wards, I mean. Only Potter's can… So, we could sidelong?"

I stared blankly at his nervous expression, secretly enjoying how nervous I seem to make him. Then again, that was probably due to the fact that I had cried all over him last night. I grimaced before walking up to him, placing my hand on his arm and gripping tight.

Of course, him being Potter, he had to wrap an arm around my waist and, before I could protest, winked and apparated.

"Bloody hell," I gasped as the squeezing sensation ending, out of breath as I hadn't had time to prepare for the abrupt departure.

"Get off me," I snapped, wrenching away from Potter's iron hold on my waist and sending him a withering glare. He threw me an arrogant smirk before releasing me, turning away to look towards Diagon Alley.

The Alley wasn't nearly as packed as I usually saw it, as the school letters had yet to arrive along with the necessary book list. I pushed past Potter and joined the small stream of people, heading towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

The large shop was the second to last on the street, and had a large flashing advertising sign: '_One day sell: All robes, 75% off!'_

I smiled at my unusual bout of luck before entering, annoyed to hear the bell ding a minute or so later and look up to see Potter enter the shop. Of course he'd find me fast. Hoping for even a moments peace was obviously useless.

"Would you _not_ run off like that?" he asked irritably, making his way over to the rack of Hogwarts uniforms I was looking at, as my sleeves had grown too-short and my skirt didn't cover as much as I'd like.

"I don't seem to remember asking for an escort," I replied, choosing a pure cotton uniform with cut-sleeves and another with long sleeves for the winter.

Potter made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, but said nothing else. After informing him that I'd be a while and he should go sit and wait, I starting browsing the shirts for under my uniform.

"Need any help, darling?" Madam Malkin asked me some minutes later, as she stocked a shelf.

"Oh, it's fine; I'm just restocking my wardrobe,"

"Then you must let me help, child." But it wasn't an offer from her mouth, it was more of a demand, and so, twenty minutes later I reluctantly headed to the dressing room, arms full of garments I knew I didn't need, but Malkin insisted would look "too-cute" on me. It took me a while to realize she had spotted my green dress gown and thought I was one of her richer customers that had money to waste on trivial items.

As it was, I probably would even buy half of what I was holding. I was also irritated to note she kept flinging other items over the curtain for me to try. If this didn't stop, I may be late to meet Petunia; especially since she kept asking me to come out and show her the outfits.

I sighed as I adjusted the skin-tight white button-up dress shirt, annoyed at how tight it was and that I could see a faint outline of my black bra beneath the sheer material. But Merlin was the material smooth; "One hundred percent Egyptian cotton," Madam Malkin informed me with a grin.

"Wow," Potter breathed, and I turned to glare at him as Madam Malkin adjusted my shirt, tutting all the while before flicking her wand only to have my bra-outline disappear.

"It is a simple enchantment, but if you are going to wear it under your school robes you shouldn't have to worry about it," She explained to my quizzical expression, as I turned to survey myself in the mirror. I flushed slightly as I noticed that Madam Malkin had undone one button too many, and my cleavage was bursting, making the shirt look terribly indecent.

"Excuse me," I murmured, rushing back into the dress room to change into a green night dress Madam Malkin had said would look gorgeous on me. Of course she had picked green; everyone did. I was actually sort of tired of always wearing the color. Only mum had ever insisted purple was my color.

"Come out, dear," She ordered once I had the frilly green contraption on. It was too-short, coming only an inch down my thigh, and looked rather provocative. It wasn't a night dress, I realized; it was lingerie.

I obviously didn't come out soon enough for Malkin's liking, however, because she pulled open the curtain and pushed me in front of the mirror.

"Gorgeous!" She exclaimed, seeming very pleased with herself as I tried in vain to pull the night dress down further.

I turned as I heard a startled gasp to see Potter eyeing me hungrily, though once he saw me looking he immediately turned away to look to the side, fluffing his hair nervously, face bright red. I glared at him pointedly; oh, good, he was getting a show out of my torture.

"I really must go," I informed before she could push me to try on something else. "I need to meet my sister in the next ten minutes."

"Oh, yes, of course, dear! Let's just get you checked out," She said easily, though I could see she was slightly disappointed at me taking away her fun of torturing me.

I sighed as I returned to change back into the emerald dress. I was planning on stopping by Borgin and Burkes before seeing Petunia, but Madam Malkin obviously had other plans.

As soon as I opened the curtain she began grabbing at every item I had tried on, pointedly ignoring my protest that I did _not_ need that much clothing.

"You can never have enough," She tutted merrily, humming to herself as she moved towards the register and began ringing the items up. I huffed, exasperated and annoyed as I saw the price come up to almost all of my summer earnings of babysitting my neighbor's kid.

Before I could even pull out my Gringotts card, Potter was behind me, handing Malkin compensation in the form of many galleons for the massive selection of clothing on the counter. Unable to do anything but stare in surprise, it was minutes later and after Malkin had been paid that I realized what Potter was doing, and by then he was pulling me from the shop.

"Hey!" I pulled my wrist from his hand and took a hasty step away from him. "What in Merlin's name was that?"

Potter scowled at me, obviously annoyed at me not fawning over the gesture. "I was just being polite," He informed. "I doubt you have that kind of money to be spending."

"As a matter of fact, I do have 'that kind of money to be spending'!" I seethed, glaring at him for labeling me as a poor person in need of charity.

"Really?" He snorted, obviously finding something amusing. "You don't usually _dress_ like you have money,"

My hands shook at what he was implying – just because I didn't get all dressed up like the other girls at school so that the boys could fawn over me did not mean that I _couldn't,_ and certainly didn't mean that I didn't have the money to.

"For your information," I bit out, poking him in the chest to emphasize me words and annoyance, "I _do_ have 'that kind of money'; as a matter of fact, I have that much money because I _worked _for it, all summer, every summer, since long before I was fourteen."

I glared at him as he opened his mouth to reply, but quickly cut him off. "Do you know what _earning_ money means, Potter? It means that you work for it, you spend hours doing things you do not want to do, and, at the end of an extremely long, exhausting day, you get paid for it. Then you go back, and do it all again. Understand?"

I taunted him, talking to him like he was a toddler that didn't know how the world worked. This probably wasn't exactly the way I should be treating him after he'd just paid for all my things, but, Merlin, he had some hidden agenda, and I would go to hell before I thanked him and swooned at his generosity.

It was easy to tell he was getting annoyed as I ranted on, as his eyes were narrowing and his fist were unclenching and clenching.

"Fine," He snapped, running a hand through his hair in the gesture I had long ago learned to hate. "I _won't_ be nice to you, Evans. I won't buy you things, I won't compliment you, and I certainly won't let you cry all over me like a baby because you couldn't catch up with your sister that _hates_ you."

His words cut me, and I recoiled, as if slapped, as he mentioned my short breakdown the night before. It was a low blow, and he seemed to recognize it, because his eyes softened as he took my expression in. But I didn't care about his remorse, because that had hurt more than any stinging hex ever could.

I clenched and unclenched my own hands a few times, before giving a curt nod and turning on the ball of my foot.

"Fine," I said coldly, and with a pop I left him and my shopping bags in Diagon Alley.

* * *

><p><strong>I was pretty iffy if I should end this here or keep going onto the meeting with Petunia, but I'm already nearing five-thousand words so I figure I'll leave it for a bit.<strong>

**Be sure to leave me comments of thoughts on this chapter, and thanks for all the support. I really appreciate it!**


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